Patch Up (12 page)

His eyes move over me from top to bottom and back up. I fidget, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. Under his scrutiny I wonder what his eyes are seeing and what he’s thinking. He’s the first person in my life that makes me regret that reading someone else’s mind is not possible.

“So now what?” he asks me softly.

Now what? I don’t really know, but it seems I have to deal with him in my life one way or another. Having an ally doesn’t sound so bad, but I’m pretty sure that Duke already has the ammunition to kill what little I have left of myself. Opening up to someone is dangerous, but Duke makes it sound appealing. Also, I can’t help the little stirring I feel whenever he’s around and when he’s showing even the slightest of pain he feels.

“If you don’t go and see Sean, we can see if this friendship can survive a little longer.”

His well-defined lips turn down a little at Sean’s name but he nods. The weird thing is the stiffness in the move doesn’t convince me of the truth of his agreement, but I let it slip; trying this faith thing that everybody seems so prone to. 

Chapter Seven

“I don’t understand,” Kate says with a frown as we leave Starbucks with our travel mugs of hot coffee and go back out on to the cold streets. I shiver at the difference from the heat inside. It’s still freezing out here, but it’s not icy cold anymore and the sun provides a soft glow over the city. She takes a sip of her sweet coffee and falls into step beside me. “What did he tell you this morning?”

I take a gulp of my black coffee, ignoring the stiffness of my aching body. That’s one good thing about the cold weather; it helps with the bruises. I shrug. “Just that he apologizes about the things he said the last time I went to talk to him and that he wanted to be in my life.”

Kate sighs appreciatively, and at first I think it’s because her hot drink is good. I soon realize that it has more to do with Duke, the hot TA as she likes to call him. I hide my smile with my travel mug.

“How romantic is that?” Kate says, stepping closer to me when a middle-age man in a suit passes us and almost bumps into her, not even realizing it. He’s too engrossed in his phone call. She gives him a murderous glare with her soft green eyes that really aren’t that menacing.

“Not really,” I reply with a laugh that doesn’t sound true to my ears. Just thinking there could be something romantic between Duke and I makes me feel all funny. My chest feels lighter, my heart is beating faster, and my bad mood has disappeared. Kate saw it as soon as I came back from my shower this morning. That’s how much Duke affects me.

“Oh, open your eyes already!” Her insistence is not that funny. I tighten my grip on my mug and suppress a groan.

“That’s rich coming from a girl who swears off relationships,” I snap, not caring how she’s going to take it. After all, it’s true. She told me once that she’s not looking for a serious relationship because she doesn’t want to settle down.

“It’s not the same,” she counters evenly, finishing her drink and throwing the empty mug in an overflowing trashcan.

“Why’s that?”

She adjusts her lavender scarf and the huge black bag over her shoulder. If I’m not mistaken, she’s stalling. I finish my drink, but now I can’t find a trashcan so I keep it in my hand, irritated that I have something to hold when all I want to do is tug on both of my sleeves and hide my freezing fingers under them to escape the wind that’s now getting stronger.

“Because I saw for years what it did to my mother.” She shrugs, dismissing the importance of what she just said, but I can see right through the facade. She’s still suffering with the alcoholism of her mother. “My father is barely home. He flirts with everything that has boobs and he’s cold with his own family. If that’s what a relationship is like, then I’m not that eager to experience it.”

“So why do you want me in a relationship? And I thought that you were close to your father?” I ask, a little baffled. When I think of Kate’s father, I imagine a father who’s close to his daughter, who’s proud and attentive. Not at all the picture she is now painting.

“My father is never satisfied by what I do. He thinks I’m not smart enough, not driven enough, and all that crap. That’s why I want to work with him, to prove him wrong. I’m not going to become a trophy wife whose smiles are not genuine.” She gazes absentmindedly at an art gallery where a huge painting with splashes of red, purple, and yellow brightens the window. “But I know it’s weird to see all relationships and
love
like that. I don’t know, but maybe if I see you having some fun with Duke and if you come out of your shell thanks to this relationship, then I’ll finally really believe my parents are just a messed up couple and nothing else.”

I clear my throat; it makes me uneasy to hear my roommate open up so much when I have divulged nothing at all about my own life. Somehow, it makes me feel like a fraud. “Don’t put all your hopes in me. I’m so not ready for a relationship.”

She turns her head toward me and smiles softly with a little twinkle in her eyes that doesn’t bode well for me. “We’ll see!”

I’m screwed if she’s determined to see me in a relationship. She’s going to push me into it and won’t leave me alone until I cave. But I’m not dumb; I know why I’m all flutters and shivers when I see Duke. I’m attracted to him because he’s a good looking guy who doesn’t take advantage of it. He’s also very sexy with his tattoos; something I never realized could be such a turn on. But it’s just physical. It’s not like I’m in love with him or secretly praying to have a relationship with him. Though, this attraction I feel for him is beyond foreign to me.

Before Sean, I had never felt any sexual attraction, and since him … well, it’s the first time I’ve felt anything like it and I don’t know how to deal with it. The first thing that comes to mind is to ignore it. But is that a good idea? Not that I want to act on it, but maybe I should just talk with him to clear the air. I don’t really see myself going to him and saying, “You know what, Duke? I can barely take it when you touch me, but somehow I’m very sexually attracted by you.” I can just imagine the look on his face.

*  *  *

Duke’s room is so not how I pictured it. Not that I really imagined it, but I was unsure if it was such a good idea to come and study here when he asked me yesterday during coffee. However, now that I’m here, I’m glad. It feels normal to study with a friend in his dorm room. I open my mathematics textbook and begin to work on the assignment the teacher gave us yesterday. That man is a sadist when it comes to math.

Unfortunately, I can’t focus on my work. I’m too distracted by Duke’s presence and the whisper of his pen over the paper as he’s working on his engineering class. I observe him in his own environment, in his little room. He’s sprawled on his unmade bed and he’s frowning and tugs frequently on his hair whenever something annoys him with his work. On the walls on his side, several posters of rock bands are glued and pictures of what I suppose are his family. He’s never in them, which probably means that he’s the one who took them. His desk is hidden under sheets of papers, his laptop, and what I think is a wrapper where a taco used to be. He is not at all
an orderly person, and I’m a bit taken aback by this.

“Are you sure your roommate is not going to come back?” I ask again, a little afraid to face some guy I don’t even know whose bed I am working on in his absence. Moreover, I don’t really want him imagining anything about Duke and me. It’d be awful. I’m already blushing just at the thought.

He throws his pen on his bed and yawns. “I’m sure. He’s staying at his girlfriend’s place tonight. She lives downtown with her cousin who left for the weekend.”

I nod and try again to work on my math problems, but I just can’t. Closing my textbook in anger, I throw it on the floor. It makes a loud noise that startles both of us. It’s so not like me to have such a tantrum, especially about school work.

Duke’s eyebrows shoot up, disappearing behind his hair that’s falling over his forehead. “Don’t tell me it’s annoying you to work on a Friday night,” he says with a smile that lets me know he’s teasing me.

I sigh and shrug. It’s weird. We’re just back on speaking terms and this is the first time we’ve spent some time alone, and yet he’s already distracting me. Or maybe it’s the dance my heart has been having in my chest since he proposed we work in his room.

“I’m not used to working with someone in the same room.” And that’s true. I roll up my sleeves and lean against the wall, my back screaming for release of the tension in my muscles.

“What about Kate?”

“It’s different. I live with her,” I say dismissively, waving my hand in the air.

His eyes follow the movement and darken immediately. It’s amazing how his eyes, even though almost black, can darken and show the switch of his mood. I frown, taken aback by the sudden stiffness in his posture. I look down and see what caused this reaction; two dark purple bruises on my forearm, the same forearm I just put on display for him. I gulp and tug immediately on my sleeves. I can’t look up at him. Instead, I keep my eyes on the brown comforter where there’s a hole next my knee, a hole probably caused by a cigarette.

I hear the bed protesting and then his footsteps. His legs, encased in old black jeans, appear in front of me, almost touching my own legs. “Don’t say a word, Duke,” I whisper slowly, barely able to stop the shaking of my body as the cold settles back in.

“Look at me.” He puts a hand on my thigh and I jerk but look up, wryly smiling to apologize for my behavior.

He’s not offended, he’s more sad than anything else. He’s not even angry. The heat from his hand is slowly warming my thigh, making it easier not to shake.

“Can I sit next to you?” he asks me, his voice breaking slightly, just enough to let me know how shaken he really is to see the result of Sean’s assault. The pathetic thing is that it’s not even a surprising view for me. It’s almost normal, part of my life; even if I know this life is not really mine anymore.

“Yes.”

The bed dips with his weight. He leans against the wall with me, his shoulder brushing against mine, and his long leg presses against me, too. I don’t move even though my first instinct is to stand up and put some distance between us. My breathing is shallow but I manage to take some deep breaths and calm myself enough to ignore the loud beating of my heart, the heat along my leg where we touch, and the living contradiction that I want to both run away and lean against him even more.

“Would you show me all your bruises if I asked you to?”

I turn my head toward him like I see him for the first time. He smiles slightly at seeing my widened eyes.

“Why?” I shake my head. “No, forget it. I can’t.”

“Don’t you trust me?” Now he’s playing the sympathy card. Sometimes I’d like to hit him with the heaviest textbook I own.

“It’s not that, Duke,” I reply in a sigh. “I’d need to strip for you to see them all and I’m not sure me being in my underwear is such a good idea.”

His Adam’s apple jumps in his throat. “There are so many?” His deep voice, usually so recognizable, is barely audible. Not realizing I’d need to strip to my underwear, he is stricken by the extent of my injuries.

“They’re bruises. They’ll soon be gone,” I say evenly, trying to minimize the impact of all of this on him. Granted, it’s really only minor bruises, but I know what he’s picturing in his head and it makes me more self-conscious than I already was. I don’t want him to really see what a coward I am and continue to be. Knowing I’ve been beaten is one thing, seeing it is entirely something else and I’m not sure what he’d do after that. I don’t want to risk it.

“Show me.”

I scowl and put a little space between us. Doing so, I bump my elbow on the wall. I curse quietly, but it doesn’t change the stricken look on his face. “Are you serious?”

He tugs on his hair again and shrugs. “Yes.” But it’s barely a whisper

Mouth agape, I really look at him. I close my mouth and clear my throat. “You want to see me in my underwear?” My face is hot all of a sudden and seeing his eyes widen doesn’t help much.

“No! I mean, yes. But no!” he stutters, his tanned complexion showing a red hue over his cheeks. He runs a hand over his goatee and chuckles nervously. “I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry, Skye. Don’t take it the wrong way.”

That’s the thing, I don’t exactly know what the wrong way is. I’m about to answer him when I feel my cell phone vibrate in my pants pocket. Quickly, I fish it out and thank the caller for their timing. Duke is still blushing a little. I answer without checking the caller ID. Big mistake.

“How’s my little student?” my father’s voice booms through the phone and I barely have time to tighten my grip before it slips from my shaky fingers. It’s beyond weird to have my father on the phone when I’ve just been discussing stripping to my underwear with a guy in his room. For once, I’m pretty sure I’m living the real college experience.

“I’m fine. And you, Dad?” I ask with a smile half embarrassed and half amused when Duke becomes pale.

“It’s good over here and I’ve got great news!” Behind him I can hear my mother mumble something. Nostalgia hits me suddenly.

Duke shakes his head and looks back at me, catching me gazing at him. He smiles at me but it doesn’t reach his eyes and it bothers me. Without a sound I ask him, “What?”